


Bring On the Rain

by Wordsmith_Storyweaver



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsmith_Storyweaver/pseuds/Wordsmith_Storyweaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the future, everyone we know and love has settled down in Storybrooke. Well, almost everyone. Emma and Killian have been together for several years now, living with Henry in the old loft apartment. But it turns out that sometimes, the past doesn't want to stay left behind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the chapter titles are taken from song titles.

The rain resolutely lashes down on Killian’s face and shoulders, striking his skin like tiny blades. But he welcomes his body’s pain because it distracts him from the agony in his mind and the gaping hole where his heart used to be. Just a day ago, everything had been so perfect; today, his whole world has been turned upside down. He feels like drowning, like the storm has swept him into the deep, and he no longer knows which way is up, leading to redemption. He’d seen pity in Snow White’s eyes when she told him all he needed to know. She’s not here.  
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]  
That Morning  
Emma groans as it sinks in that she’s conscious, despite the fact that it’s Sunday and probably still way too early for her to be up. However, it quickly becomes apparent that someone has decided that they want her attention no matter what unholy hour it is. “I gave you a hand back; I can take one away from you, you know?”  
She cracks open her right eye a bit, seeing an intense, playful blue gaze hovering just over the shoulder that Killian is gently brushing with his lips and tickling with his usual morning scruff. “You could, but then that means I wouldn’t be able to touch both of your delectable breasts when you ride me like you did last night. And we can agree what an absolute tragedy that would be. They are such a perfectly matched pair, and deserve lavish, equal attention as such. It’s a shame that I don’t have two sets of wickedly skilled mouths and tongues, really. Because you know they are just so beautiful, I can never decide which one I like best. Shall I demonstrate my dilemma to you?”  
He rolls her onto her back, settling himself between her thighs and bracing himself just so over her. He cups and kneads her left breast, bringing the sensitive nerves to life and causing her nipples to start puckering for him. “There, you see how utterly responsive this one is, how it reaches out for my touch. Almost as if it knows that I plan on doing this.” He lowers his head, flicking his tongue at the now hardened bud of flesh, without ever breaking eye contact. A few gentle kisses, licks, and caressing breaths later, he sucks her into his mouth. Teeth, tongue, and suction work their magic, and he has Emma writhing gloriously beneath him. And then he repeats the slow torture with her right breast, extolling its perfection as well while his fingers stroke along the plane of her belly.  
Emma threads her fingers through his hair, marveling as always just how soft the jet black waves are. She pulls him up for a lazy, thorough kiss. Through the haze of growing pleasure, a shrill, insistent buzzing sounds in the apartment. “Killian, do you hear that? That’s not my phone or alarm.”  
He doesn’t get a chance to respond before they both feel like they’ve been sucker-punched. The air in their lungs becomes trapped, and they have to relearn how to breathe. Their blackouts only last a matter of seconds, but neither has a clue as to what caused it. “Henry lad! Did you feel anything just a moment ago?”  
“God, no! Seriously, I’d tell you guys to get a room, but clearly you’ve already got that covered! I don’t need to know these things!” Typical wise-ass remark out of their fifteen year old.  
“Seriously?! Nothing that made you queasy or want to black out, kid?”  
“No, Mom. Magic overload from last night, maybe? Again.” The last word is said in a quieter, exasperated voice.  
But soon Emma’s phone is ringing with the tone set for town emergencies. Killian hands it over to her before getting out of bed and slipping on his discarded pajama pants. “Sheriff Swan.”  
“Emma! It’s Mother Superior. Did you and Captain Jones feel that?”  
“Definitely. What was that?”  
“It was magic, and a lot of it. Emma, I think someone may have opened a portal in Storybrooke.”  
“But I thought there wasn’t enough magic left in this world for that. Do you think Gold figured something out, or someone from outside managed to get it? Never mind, Blue. We’ll check things out.” Emma shimmies into the panties and jeans that Killian had gotten out of their wardrobe and tossed on the bed for her before hanging up her cell. She reaches around him to grab a bra, slapping his ass while he’s hopping into his own pair of denim pants and boots. “Mother Superior thinks that someone opened a portal, and what we felt was magical backlash. Good thing we didn’t get too kinky with our abilities last night.”  
She winks at him, making the former pirate smile. Over the last three years, Emma has become more expressive, more open with her affection for him. In the bedroom, at least. She’s still his take-no-prisoners, kick-ass first mate and sheriff, both to him and everyone else; but she’s opened up to him, revealing the softer side that all the armor was protecting for all those lonely years. “Do you think Rumplestiltskin’s finally found a way to open one? Ever since Marielle was born he’s seemed less inclined to use his magic.”  
Emma chewed on her lower lip in thought a bit. It was true—once Belle found out that she was pregnant, Gold had basically stopped practicing. Because his powers were born from darkness, even though he was no longer the Dark One, the prices he had to pay were much steeper than what she and Killian had to. So, he’d put aside most of the tools of his trade, mainly dabbling in the occasional potion for love spells or harmless entertainment. But before impending fatherhood had changed things, he had had a vision—that Neal was alive and trapped in another realm. For awhile, Rumplestiltskin had become obsessed yet again with travelling to other worlds to find his lost son, but as with his previous quest, there just wasn’t a way. “I agree. I think it’s much more likely that someone came through to us. The question is how. We only managed to find our way back to Storybrooke because of Henry.”  
Gold had managed to get a drop of Henry’s blood at some point—a detail he was very vague on and over which Emma had thrown a few magical punches—and included it in the cloaking spell that was used to protect the town from the Home Office people. If they had failed to rescue him from Pan and the Lost ones, they would have been stranded outside of Storybrooke forever. The reveal of his plan had not gone over very well, to say the least. So, someone finding a way into their world must have taken a whole lot of willpower or an insane amount of magic; sending two powerful sorcerers to investigate a massive spike in magical energy only makes sense. “Indeed, although if our outsider is coming from our world, it means that they found something that needed restoring… Which means Lake Nostos, and that the wishing well should probably be our first stop.”  
Emma smiles after clipping her badge to her belt and slips her arms around Killian’s waist. “Only you would be okay with getting interrupted and then being forced to get out of bed and check things out. I do believe we’ve gotten you fully rehabilitated, Jones. I should get you a sticker, maybe a button that says “100% Hero” on it. Your days as pirate and villain are clearly all behind you.”  
He scoffs and looks slightly offended before lowering his head closer to hers. “The fearsome Captain Hook, a hero?! Wherever do you get these fanciful notions, love? I’ll have you know that there’s an astoundingly beautiful princess who is just ripe for the plucking. I have every intention of storming her castle, breaching her defenses, fighting off her guards, and thoroughly, painstakingly ravishing her. Later.”  
Killian kisses her nose, quickly dodging when she tries to swat him on the arm for teasing her. Then she comes up with a saucy wink and grin of her own, hips swaying seductively as she walks out of their room ahead of him. “Play your cards right, Jones, and I may even let you wear the whole get-up while you do. Maybe even the hook.”  
She giggles at his groan and muttered “temptress.” It takes them a minute to grab their coats and the keys to Killian’s truck; they’d finally given up on him learning how to drive with Emma trying to teach him, turning the task over to an amused David. He’d gotten his license within a week. When he had moved into the loft and her parents had moved into a house, she’d finally parted ways with the old yellow bug and pitched in to help Killian buy the used Chevy. They really only needed the one vehicle, because he always dropped Henry off at the bus-stop and Emma off at the station before going to his workshop or whatever construction site he was needed at. And it wasn’t like either of them couldn’t walk anywhere from their Main Street apartment. Plus, the truck was much more practical for all of the dirt and gravel roads that make up most of the town.  
Within five minutes of Mother Superior’s call, the two of them are on the road headed deep into the woods. Emma’s behind the wheel, because while both of them use magic on a regular basis now, it takes a fair bit of meditation for Killian to access his. When she had healed him and restored his hand, she had apparently “woken up” his long-dormant abilities. They’d spoken to the Fairy Godmother Nova, who was a living archive of a sort. She couldn’t say exactly who his parents had been (sometimes, certain things weren’t on record), but the fact that he could use magic meant that they had definitely been True Love; the fact that he had spent his formative years living as a pirate, and then even more focused on revenge, had kept most of his abilities from exerting their influence or making their presence known. Once he had found his own True Love, he’d been able to tap into his powers.  
Emma pulls to the side of the road where the trailhead begins. As they get out of the truck, she draws her gun, a weapon she still favors despite having actually learned how to fight with sword, knife, and bow. Killian appreciates the beauty of firearms and often goes out to an improvised range with David and Henry, but he still prefers his cutlass and, now that he’s hook-less, a dagger. The trail is wide enough that they don’t have to fight over who goes first. They both send out tendrils of magic, searching for the source of the “power surge.” There’s a faint buzzing, a residual of the initial spell, but nothing to indicate that another magic user is nearby. But someone clearly is because Emma tracks movement out of her right eye, quickly throwing up a wall of Air to protect Killian.  
“Don’t even think about rolling your eyes at me. You know I just saved your ass, Jones. This is the police! Put your bow and quiver down before we use them to make you into a pin cushion.”  
“Emma?” Two voices call out her name. She looks over at Killian, who simply shrugs but keeps his blades at the ready. Three people run out from the cover of the trees—one is the shooter and someone she doesn’t recognize, but the other are two of the last people she ever thought she’d see again.  
“Mulan? Neal?”  
“Emma, thank God!” Looking kind of like a refuge, like one of the people who had been killed by Cora at Safe Haven, Neal runs up to her, picks her up in a hug, and swings her around. “I made it, Em. I’m finally home, and I’m never leaving you again!”

To Be Continued….


	2. Caught in the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two items:
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains strong and sexually suggestive language.
> 
> The name Marielle (Belle and Rumple's daughter) is a French derivation of the name Mary.

Neal finally stops spinning and puts her down, but he doesn’t let go of her; which makes Emma extremely uncomfortable because in addition to the shock of finding out the he really is alive after all this time, his body is practically screaming that he’s excited to see her. Plus, she knows that Killian is right there going through his own bit of shock. She hears him quietly greet Mulan, telling her that it’s good to see her again and being introduced to the third member of their merry little band. It wasn’t until he was speaking to the archer that Neal seemed to notice he was there; he spun around to the others, pulling Emma along for the ride.

Killian’s face held nothing of rancor or malice, just a wonder and joy that somehow, against all odds, Milah and Rumplestiltskin’s son had survived. “Bae… I’m so sorry. Neal, it’s good to see you alive and well, mate.”

“Get the hell away from us, pirate!” He pushed Emma behind him, sword pointed directly at the other man’s throat. Once they’d identified the group as friendlies, they had both put away their weapons.

“Whoa! Neal, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Put the sword down; he’s an ally. He helped me restore Aurora’s heart and gave us the means to save our prince Phillip. By the way, Hook, their majesties send their regards and thanks.” Mulan salutes him, crossing her fisted right hand to her chest above her heart and nodding her head. She then reaches into her satchel for an ivory velvet beggar’s purse embroidered with golden thread which she hands to him. “They asked me to give you this as a token of their gratitude.”

“Wait, Hook is the one who helped save Phillip?! I don’t believe it! And hey! How do you have a hand? Did you trick my father into giving it back to you?! What have you done to him?!?!” Neal backs Killian up against a tree, the tip of his sword drawing a bead of blood. Emma makes a choked noise of distress, sparks of magic dancing above her hand ready to fly. Killian can’t move his head, but then he doesn’t really need body language to communicate with her.

Don’t, lass. Keep it ready just in case, but don’t hurt him. He’s clearly been through a lot. “Cassidy, I haven’t done anything to your father. Rumplestiltskin is alive and well, happily married in point of fact. Now, yes, I gave Aurora and Mulan the coin with which they secured Prince Phillip’s release. And I have my hand back because of Emma—she used her magic to heal me. Your father and I buried our differences a while ago.”

“Neal, please drop the sword. Among other things, I’m still the sheriff, and a lot of people would be pretty upset with you if you killed an upstanding member of the community. There are a lot of things that need to be explained to you, things that you need to know before you do something that you’ll regret. So, please, step away from Killian and put up your weapon.”

He looks at her over his shoulder, a confused scowl lining his face. “What needs to be explained? What’s going on?”

Emma sighs, knowing that there are risks with either plan. I should be the one to tell him. I’ll be safe; he won’t hurt me. I promise. “Killian, why don’t you take the others down to see Dad and Mother Superior? Then maybe set them up at Granny’s; I’m sure you guys have been through a lot coming through that portal. I know I slept for a week after my first portal.”

Mulan and the archer nod, clearly sensing that whatever news she’ll have for Neal won’t necessarily be good. Emma flinches a bit, but gives Neal her back and goes straight up to Killian. She laces the fingers of both their hands together and gives his a short, yet still passionate kiss. “If things go to shit with him, I’ll let you know. Trust me, Jones, okay? Get the others up to speed and figure out what’s been happening over there since we left the Enchanted Forest.”

His eyes slide over to catch a glimpse of Neal, but his gaze immediately returns to her. He swallows, then nods. “Alright, Swan. I’ll Hear if you call for me. Be safe, my love.” He kisses her once on the forehead and leads the pair down the path toward their truck. Emma takes several deep, cleansing breaths to calm her mind and her thoughts before turning around to face Neal. His face is filled with so many emotions—confusion, anger, betrayal, pain, loss; it really does break her heart to see him like this.

“It’s been approximately four years since you fell through the portal.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you know how many years it’s been?!”

“Easy, Neal. Come on, let’s walk while we talk. After you fell through… it turns out that Tamara was working for someone else, a certain Shadow that you were once acquainted with.”

He sighs heavily, looking down at his tattered boots. “She and Greg were working for Pan.”

“Yes. And for years, he’d been searching for a boy—a very special boy who would help him get his body back, a boy whose mother was born of True Love, and whose father had been touched by Dark magic. Tamara and Greg tried to destroy Storybrooke, but it was just a distraction; while we saved the town, they kidnapped Henry and took him to Neverland by portal. Killian stole a bean from them, gave it to us, and we all used it to go rescue Henry—me, my parents, Killian, Regina, and your Dad. By the time we found our way back, more than a year had passed here. 

“But we got back from Neverland almost four years ago, so we lost a little bit of time. Henry just turned fifteen about a month ago. Your Dad married Belle almost the second we got back. You have a little sister now—her name is Marielle, and she’s turning two soon.” She watches him carefully, monitoring his face for clues as to what he’s feeling. Unfortunately, he’s shut her out, so he might as well be a stone for all the emotion he’s showing.

“And what about him? He came here with you—is he your deputy?” 

“Look, Neal--”

“No! I want to know, Em! You called him Killian! Do you know what that pirate did to my family?! He made my Mama abandon me! He told her that he’d take her on some grand adventure, ran off with her life a coward. He FUCKED my Mother, Emma! He’s the reason my Papa became the Dark One, and he’s the reason she’s dead! He killed her! He did that!” Anger radiates off of him in hot waves, more intense than anything she’s felt since the last time Regina ever used her dark magic. She knows that she’ll have to tread carefully.

“Neal--”

“Don’t tell me that that’s what I fucking saw, Em. Please don’t tell me that the woman I love, the woman I spent the last four years trying to get back to, is letting that sick mother fucker touch her. I went through hell, you know? When Tamara shot me, she nicked my lung. Mulan and Aurora had to hold me down while I thrashed and screamed, so that Phillip could shove a bamboo tube in my chest to help me breathe. And every day, as I recovered, I remembered you saying that you loved me. It was the only thing that got me through sometimes, hearing you say those words to me in my memories.”

His voice had become so quiet that Emma thinks he has finally calmed down. She places a soothing hand on his back, gently rubbing in circles. But she’s let her guard down too soon, because his sobs quickly switch from nostalgic to furious. He pins her against a tree, hands gripping her arms tightly. “Are you fucking him? Do you let him spend time with you around Henry? Does he have any contact with my son? Are you such a pathetic slut that you’ve been sucking the dick of the man who fucked up my entire life?! I want answers, Em! Are you fucking Captain Hook?! Are you fucking cheating on me with that piece of pirate sh--”

Emma pushes him away from her with her magic, bright green and gold sparkles swirling furiously in the air between them. “Not another goddamn word, Neal Cassidy, and keep your hands off of me! I respect that you have gone through a lot, and that there are a ton of changes that you need to process. But you listen to me, and you listen good. You. Do. Not. Own. Me. You and I were done romantically before you fell through that portal. I said I love you, and I meant it, Neal. But I believed you were dying, and I needed you to hear me say it before the end. Never in a million years did we think that you would survive, but even if you hadn’t fallen through, those words would still be true. I’m glad I gave you something to fight for and a reason to keep going.”

He tries to get through her barrier spell, reaching out his arms to embrace her. “No, Neal. I grieved and mourned for you a long time ago; and I buried our relationship even before that. You and I were never going to get back together. You are Henry’s father, and because of that you will always have a special place in my heart and in my love. But when you left me all those years ago, when all I had left to hold onto was an old Volkswagen and a keychain, you broke me. And because of that and so many other things, you don’t have the right to stand there and judge the choices I’ve made.

“And yes, Killian and I are together, and I love him. When he could have run away and saved his own skin, he offered his ship and his help to rescue Henry. He went back to Neverland, Neal, and you know exactly how difficult that is for anyone who’s escaped from that place! When our son was having a hard time dealing with what happened, Killian stepped up; he became his friend, someone he could talk to. And somewhere along the way, I stopped throwing up walls and let him in. He’s a good man. Does he have a checkered past? Yeah, but so do you and I. But he is NOT responsible for what happened to your family, Neal. I hate to break it to you, but your Mom made her decision. It sucks that she left you and your Dad, but you can’t blame Killian for a choice that she made. He didn’t kill her, and he’s not responsible for how and why she died.”

Neal’s eyes are still wild, still brimming with fury. “Come on, I’ll take you over to your Dad’s place and then send Henry over. I know he’ll be really excited to see you.”

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Snow White dashes a bit of cinnamon on top of the whipped cream before passing the mug of cocoa to Emma. “So, what’s the matter, honey?”

“That obvious?” She grimaces a little, uncomfortable with some of the thoughts swirling around in her brain.

“Maybe a little. But only because I’m your mother.” Emma heaves a sigh and tells the story from start to finish, down to Neal’s declaration at the door of Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop that their ‘discussion wasn’t over.’ It seems as if almost none of what she said had gotten through to him.

“I don’t know… Maybe I went a little too tough love on him, but you should have seen him, Mom. It’s almost like he’s shell-shocked, and he refuses to accept that anything has changed or could have changed in all this time he’s been gone. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t just play along. That would have just made everything worse. And Killian… I’m sure that this is killing him, because it will just bring back all those old wounds. I’m afraid he’ll start blaming himself again for Milah’s death and ‘breaking up’ the family.”

Snow’s hand settles comfortingly over her daughter’s. “Oh, honey! I never knew he held himself responsible! He of all people should know that there was nothing he could have done to stop the Dark One. Milah made a choice, but no one could have foreseen what the consequences of that decision would be. All you can do is be there for him.”

Emma sighs, getting up from the barstool and hugging her Mom. “I need to go for a walk—clear my head and get some of this energy out.”

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

It turns out that Mother Superior had quite a number of questions for Mulan and Robin of Locksley. Killian had patiently sat through the interrogation because he knew that Emma would want a full report later tonight. But that had been hours ago. There wasn’t a note at the apartment, but he’d just assumed that she’d stopped by for Henry at some point for a reunion with his father. He’d fidgeted around their place for a bit, but then felt the urge to be doing something productive and headed over to his workshop at the cabin. Well, what was left of the cabin to be more precise. He’d eventually purchased the place from Rumplestiltskin and immediately gutted it. Thanks to his job in construction, he’s slowly turning it into a proper home.

When he notices the sky starting to cloud up, he packs up his tools and decides to head back. But there’s still no one at the apartment. Reluctantly, he turns his steps toward the pawn shop. He and the Dark One may have buried the hatchet, but they try to avoid seeing too much of each other. Too many memories of Milah for the both of them. The bell chimes when he enters, silencing the clearly tense and heated conversation going on between Rumplestiltskin and Neal. Belle is holding their little girl, who’s fussy and upset. “Sorry to intrude, all. I was just looking for Emma.”

He’s about to leave when Neal’s voice barks out a harsh laugh. “Can’t find her, Hook? Has it crossed your mind that maybe she’s hiding from you? Because that’s what she does, you know. Whenever Emma doesn’t want to deal with something that’s too heavy, she runs.”

Killian breathes deeply, trying his best to let the comment slide. Another whispered discussion happens between the father and son on the other side of the room. “Look, mate. I am glad that you are well and reunited with your family, but please don’t drag up what’s past like this. I think I know my girlfriend well enough at this point.”

His words spark another cruel round of laughter. “You do, huh? Let me guess, you haven’t seen her since this morning, right? That’s because I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I told her that I loved her, and that I’d been fighting for her every day. And she ran right into my arms and kissed me. She told me that she loved me, and that she’d never stopped wishing that I were alive. And then I fucked her, right there in the middle of the forest. She said it was the best sex she’d had in years! She said she wants to marry me, that the only thing that feels right is to be a family again, with her son and the father of her child! She’d rather have the real thing, and not some home-wrecking son of a bitch.”

The blood drains from Killian’s face, but he’s seeing red. His voice is firm, but the words lack conviction. “You’re lying. Emma loves me. I fought for her; I’ve fought at her side for more days than you ever had with her.”

“Yeah, well, they do say quality matters over quantity. And you are so fucking damaged goods, it’s not even funny. Everyone abandoned you as soon as they got the chance, because you’re worthless. You may pretend for her that you’re a good man, but how can she really love you if your own father couldn’t stand you? Emma and I are already a family. Go find your own, Hook, if you can.” Killian looks to Belle and Rumplestiltskin, but neither of them will look him in the eye. He can’t bear the toxicity, the poisoned atmosphere created by Baelfire’s words any longer. The bell clangs as he leaves, its merry sound jarring and grating against his ears. He hunches down into his jacket, more than ever determined to find Emma.

The streets of Storybrooke feel colder, waiting for the storm that’s sweeping in. He buries his hands inside his coat pockets, desperately attempting to ward off the chill of fear. Because deep down inside, he’s always wondered why he was alone for so long. Is there something fundamentally wrong with him that made his father abandon him as a child? And what of his mother? Did she really die like his father claimed, or was he just like Rumplestiltskin who lied to Bae? And Milah—she chose him, but then she taunted her husband. They could have been free and clear, but she goaded the Dark One... Was she trying to get killed, just to escape her life with him?

He doesn’t find his Swan anywhere in town, so he heads over to her parents’ house. The fact that the others wouldn’t look at him and didn’t contradict Neal needles itself further into his brain. Why wouldn’t they? Did they do it because he was speaking the truth, and they knew that Killian would hate to see pity in their eyes? Images of Neal and Emma together start flashing through his mind. He sees his golden goddess, his lover writhing like a wood nymph; she dances and sways seductively, taking her pleasure with another man’s body the way she did with his the night before. Her cries of passion ringing out for someone else, another name on her lips. He can’t stop the very real, very graphic pictures from forming in his head.

Killian starts running, cutting through the neighborhoods to escape the torment. Did he really think that he could hold on to a woman like Emma Swan? How could he ever think that he was good enough for her? He could never deserve her, never be worthy of her—not after all of the vile and evil things that he’s done. How can he compete with the man who gave her Henry, the son she adores beyond anything else? His own father couldn’t love him the way that Emma loves her boy; so why should she, how could she love Killian? The first drops of rain start to fall when his feet land on the Nolans’ front porch. He pounds his fist hard on the door, willing Emma to be there. Snow White’s face appears at the small, lace curtained window; a frown forms when she recognizes who it is. But once she unlocks and opens the door, her features are transformed by a single emotion: pity. “Emma. Is she?--”

“Oh, Killian! I’m so sorry, sweetie; she’s not here. Killian!” It’s the endearment that breaks him, that makes him realize the truth—Neal wasn’t lying. He immediately starts running and doesn’t look back.


	3. Come on Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Adventurine is a real stone and a secondary birthstone for the month of October.

Killian has no idea how long he’s been running because he didn’t have a destination in mind when he set out. His boots are caked with mud and sand, so he’s clearly been along the beach and through the woods at some point. The woolen pea-coat will have to be thrown away because it’s thoroughly saturated, drenched within moments once the downpour began with a vengeance. When he comes to himself, he’s standing on the docks, staring at his beloved Jolly Roger; aside from the apartment where he lives and sleeps beside Emma, this is the last places he’s ever called home. The wet and cold hadn’t bothered him while he was moving, but now he’s shivering, soaked down to the skin. He trudges up the steps, a sense of finality and ending in every movement. He’ll find her, say goodbye, and sail to the ends of the worlds.  
He’s standing in front of his own cabin door before he notices a warm light spilling out of the room. When he walks in, she glows golden in the light of the lamps and the heat of the stove fire. She’s always been like the sun to him—life giving, bright, beautiful, and consuming. She stands with her back to him, absently toying with one of her silky blonde curls as she watches the storm lash against the window panes. He must have made some sound—a sharp intake of breath or maybe a sob—because she turns toward him. Her expression is neutral, but quickly becomes upset when she sees him. He readies his body for the blow his heart will never survive. “Jesus Christ, Killian! What happened?!”  
He finds himself unable to respond, jaw locked until he tries to speak, and then his teeth are chattering too badly. Worry fills her eyes as she looks at him before she drags him in front of the fire. She mutters under her breath about fools and pirates while she strips off his coat and his shirt. She pulls the chair over and pushes him down into it, so she can unlace his boots and remove them. She grabs the large blanket from his bed and drapes it over the chair after pulling him back up onto his feet. It takes a little bit of struggling to pry the wet denim off of his legs, but she manages, forcing him to sit back down again and wrapping the bed-cover around his shoulders. The linens here haven’t been used since their last sailing trip, so they don’t smell very fresh; but she needs to get him dry and grabs a few towels. She starts with his hair, roughly ruffling the jet black locks to get as much of the rain water out as she can.  
It’s when she kneels down in front of him, to dry his feet and legs that she finally gets a response out of him. He starts to pull away. “Don’t. You shouldn’t feel obligated to take care of me.”  
She stays on her knees, but rests her hands on his thighs, trying to get him to look at her. “Killian, what are you talking about? I’m taking care of you because that’s what people who love each other do. Will you please talk to me? I’m here; tell me what’s upset you so much that you come here like a half-drowned rat.”  
His eyes are fever bright when he finally looks at her, filled with doubts and confusion. “Why are you here, Swan?”  
She winces internally; something is terribly wrong because the nickname lacks its usual playful tone. The last time she heard him say it like he did just now was when she abandoned him on the beanstalk. Her hunch is confirmed when she attempts to touch his cheek, and he flinches away from her hand. She sighs and stays where she is, kneeling at his feet. “I came here on accident actually. After I left Neal with his family, I had a talk with Mom. Then I started walking to clear my head. I was thinking about us, and somehow, I ended up here, where it all really began.”  
He finally looks at her, questions forming in his eyes. “Well, it really did all start back in the Enchanted Forest, didn’t it? But here, on this ship—this is where I started to fall in love with you; this was the room and the bed in which we first made love to each other. So many firsts happened here, Killian… Can you feel those emotions, those memories? With my magic, I can almost see and feel them again, like they are happening for the first time. Can you?”  
The truth is, he doesn’t need his magic to feel everything because all those moments have been branded on his heart since they happened. Not a day has passed that he hasn’t pulled out those precious remembrances and marveled that they occurred at all. “I’ve thought about them every single day, lass. They are the clearest memories I have, because I have willed myself to never forget them. I don’t need magic to see what’s always in my mind’s eye.” He uses their connection, their previously unquestioned ability to silently communicate. He believed that it was because they were True Loves, but now, maybe it’s just that they both can wield magic. He tells her, lets her feel everything that’s passed since last he saw her.  
He closes his eyes, unable to bear to see the truth of Baelfire’s words written on her face. He feels hot tears spill down onto the skin of his thigh before Emma places her head there. Her body is shaking, so he reaches a tentative hand to brush through her glorious golden curls comfortingly. When she lifts her face, he realizes that what he thought were sobs were actually chuckles, fits of laughter. She kisses his hand and keeps it in hers. “Killian Jones, you are an idiot, and Neal is a lying dead man. Oh, baby! THIS is what I talked to my Mom about today; I was afraid you’d start blaming yourself all over again for Milah. She never knew how much you blamed yourself for everything that happened, so she was probably going to give you one of her motherly speeches and encouragement. Maybe a little bit of advice too.”  
His inner demons keep urging him to resist, driving home again and again the idea that he is unredeemable, unlovable. But the smile, the look on Emma’s face is positively heavenly, and though he has failed in so many ways, Killian has always been a child of light and beauty. The hope that kindles in his eyes again pushes her to take that next step, the one that she’s been planning and worrying over for the last month and more. She slips her hand into her jacket pocket and pulls out a small, square, flat box. “Even though he couldn’t have known it, Neal was right about one thing. I do want to marry the father of my child.”  
She places the box on Killian’s knee and places his hands around it, then sits back on her knees to give him space. He glances up at her, curious, but she only smiles wider and nods her head toward the box. He lifts the lid carefully—nestled inside is a tiny pair of white baby slippers, a newborn sized onesie that says “Daddy’s Little Pirate,” and, sitting inside one of the slippers, a silver ring. The design is simple, a marquis-cut dark green stone set in the band, with waves carved into the metal. Killian lifts it out carefully, but his focus, his attention is on the embroidered baby clothes. He runs his fingers wonderingly over the word Daddy. He looks up at her, his beautiful, brilliant Swan, who has tears of happiness in her eyes. “Lass?”  
“Yes. It’s too early to tell what our baby will be, but you are going to be a daddy, Killian. And because I know that you’ve wanted to marry me for a long time, and you’d insist on doing things the “proper way,” I decided that I’d do something a little bit un-traditional just to spite you. So, Killian Jones, love of my life, my one True Love, and father of my unborn child, will you marry me? Will you be my family and my home forever?”  
He completely ignores the box, kneeling along with her and wrapping her up tightly in his arms. She holds him and rocks with him as he cries, tears of loss, of pain, of joy, of happiness. “I know, baby. I know. Please let go of the past for good, just let it out. I need you so much sometimes that it hurts to breathe, and the thought of losing you scares me. You need to know, Killian love; if I lost you, I could continue on, just going through the motions. But without you, I wouldn’t really live.”  
He silences her with a kiss, slow and lingering as if he is re-learning her feel and taste. It’s as if she is water, and he’s just crossed a burning desert. He’s panting when he finally releases her lips and sets his forehead against hers. Emma smiles sweetly and can’t resist the chance to tease him. “So, is that a yes, Captain Jones? Usually, I can’t shut you up, but now--”  
She shrieks when he sweeps her up into his arms and tosses her onto the bed, quickly joining her. He feathers kisses along her cheekbone and jaw, then her nose and eyelids and forehead, each brush of his lips accompanied by a softly whispered, yes. His hands are busy, dealing with the buttons on her coat and the zipper on her jeans, leaving Emma free to runs her hands all over his fortuitously naked body. The skin of his back and his ass are littered with scars, along with his chest, but she loves the feel of them under her fingertips—these proofs of all that he has gone through and managed to weather. They are a testament to the power of his resolve, his ability to survive, but also of his need to protect what’s his. She thinks that they make him even more beautiful that he already is. He pulls back and scoots down the bed, but only so he can remove her boots, socks, and pants. Their eyes never leave the other’s; while she strips off her coat and shirt, he gets rid of everything except her panties. Then he crawls back up her body, dropping kisses along her skin.  
When his face is once more in line with hers, he drifts a hand down her body and settles it over her still flat stomach. Now that he knows what he’s looking for, there’s the slightest rounding of her belly, down near her mound. “How long—how far along are you?”  
Emma’s smile brightens and turns the slightest bit teasing. “Oh, no you don’t! In case no one has brought you up to speed yet, this whole pregnancy thing works both ways in this world! So, WE have been pregnant for a little over two months, which means WE will have our baby in about seven more months. Half you and half me, which means that he or she is going to be all trouble. Now, let me see how well your engagement ring fits. You always seemed to prefer silver. The stone is actually one of the lesser known birth stones from my birth month; it’s called Adventurine, and when I heard that, it just seemed perfect. Did you check out the inscription?”  
Killian frowns a bit when she pulls the ring from his finger, but she shifts it so he can read what’s written on the inside of the band underneath the stone. Trust. He’s so overwhelmed, struck speechless by everything, that he doesn’t resist when she flips them over. With a questioning lift of her eyebrow, she grabs his left hand and slips the ring back onto the finger it was meant for. He sits up and gathers her close again, running his hands along the soft skin of her back. “Adventure, family, trust, and you?... What kind of idiot would say no to that?”


	4. Epilogue- Who Stops the Rain

One Year Later

Snow stands behind her daughter finishing up the row of silk-covered buttons at the back of her dress. She still hasn’t gotten the chance to help her pick out her outfit for her first ball, but this moment is just a precious to her. Today her Emma—the baby girl who was forced to grow up without her mother and father’s love, yet still managed to become their savior—is celebrating a milestone on her path of True Love.

Sure, it’s not exactly how she imagined things happening for her little princess; in the land where Snow was born and raised, having two children usually came after the wedding, and not the other way around. And girls with noble blood and royal pedigrees typically married to secure an alliance with another kingdom, not for love and most definitely not to a reformed, infamous pirate. But if only for this one day, she gets to see her daughter dressed and acting the part of the beloved princess that she truly is; more importantly, she knows without a doubt that the man marrying Emma will treat her with the same level of devotion and respect every day.

David sits in a nearby chair, lovingly watching two of his three favorite women get ready for the wedding. The third is fast asleep in his arms, sucking on her middle and ring fingers voraciously. It amuses them all to no end that Amy Michelle Jones has to do everything in her own way. Including scaring them all by coming several months too early, spending the first week of her life in the hospital on a breathing tube to help her little lungs finish developing. He knows that if things had turned out differently and they had gone back to the Enchanted Forest, his precious granddaughter probably wouldn’t have lived. As if protesting her grandfather’s worry for her, she kicks her feet in her sleep, pulling a chuckle from him. “She doing okay, Dad?”

He looks up and the sight of his girl steals his breath away. The one-shouldered cream silk gown is simple, yet timelessly elegant; not as tightly fitted as some of the other ones that had driven her mother to distraction, it gathers together at her waist under a belt of blue-grey, jewel-encrusted satin then gently falls away from her hips. Her hair is pulled away from her face in an intricate series of braids with some of it spilling in curls down her back and a couple of small lilac sprigs are scattered in the style. But it’s when she looks down at the two of them together, her worried frown turning into a smile of joy and contentment, that his heart absolutely melts. “You know, my case worker once told me that I refused to suck my thumb too. It always had to be those two fingers or nothing at all.”

“Your grandmother used to tell me the same thing about me.” David’s eyes start to get teary because he can’t help thinking about how much he missed with her. He’ll never be able to tell her little brother Ethan any such tales about what funny things his big sister did growing up. He doesn’t know the stories behind the scars on her knees and elbows. Did she ever need stitches or a cast when she was younger? Did anyone hold her hand and stop her crying with soothing words and a gentle voice? He’ll never know, because his brave baby girl came to this world without him and her mother. And for some reason on this day, one of the happiest and proudest of his life, all he can dwell on are the things that they lost out on, the moments that they missed.

“I don’t remember Ethan doing that, but maybe it’s only us stubborn ones, huh Dad? Can’t do the expected, normal thing if we can avoid it, can we?” Emma smiles at him, gently cupping his cheek and brushing the single tear away with her thumb. Her younger brother clearly got more of their mother’s genes, practically skipping the terrible twos altogether; calm and quiet, the three year old’s favorite pastimes involve reading or gardening with Snow. “Now, I think Mom needs to take our little ring bearer out with his niece.”

Emma carefully picks up her daughter and shares a quiet moment with her while Snow finishes buttoning Ethan’s little tie into place. It never ceases to amaze her how she once believed that the life she has now would have all seemed like just a fairytale, a wish upon a blue star candle on a lonely birthday cupcake. Even looking back to the painful week of Amy’s birth and stay in the hospital, she can feel the difference. Because even though she had loved Henry with every ounce of her being almost from the moment she knew she was pregnant, she had been all alone in the world and so scared that she would fail, would let him down. So all of her love for him had condensed down into two acts—giving birth to him and giving him his best chance with another family. She never regretted that choice, until the moment a little boy had knocked on the door of her downtown Boston apartment six years ago. Now, she has all she never believed in and more, and not a day passes where she isn’t grateful for all the love that surrounds her.

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“No! Nova it’s too soon! She isn’t ready! Nova, can’t we do something?! She—she needs more time!”

“With all due respect, I believe the little lass is telling us otherwise. Listen to the fairy, love; time to push. I’ve got you, I’m right here for you.” Killian kisses her hair, terrified eyes locked on the fairy godmother’s. After all that she’s done to help them magically, Emma had insisted that Nova be the one to help deliver their baby. The woman’s face is all business, calming and cajoling as she keeps encouraging deep breaths. He’s glad that he’d been able to slip behind Swan beforehand, being a comforting and supporting presence at her back and letting her grip both of his hands in hers. He has no idea how Nova is being so cool under this pressure—the baby is coming and it’s at least two months too soon. He’s doing a fairly good job of keeping his tone even and consistent, free of panic and fear, but he knows that he wouldn’t be able to prevent those emotions from telegraphing themselves into his face.

He keeps telling her how amazing she is and how much he loves her and their little girl. And when her contractions get so bad that she literally breaks his finger, he doesn’t even flinch or cry out. Killian just keeps talking to her, keeps thanking her for everything about their life together for the last four months. He tells her that they are going to miss being woken up by her cravings, but that soon it will be their baby getting them up in the middle of the night instead. He desperately wants to ask if this is normal because Emma’s sounds of distress and pain are breaking his heart. He’s not sure how much longer he can continue hiding his anxiety. But then they hear a little cough, followed by a tiny whimpering wail. “There she is! Hello, sweet girl. Welcome home, precious baby. You kept us all on our toes today, angel girl. You showed up on your own timing, didn’t you? Too excited to see the world? You’ve got a beautiful daughter!”

And then nothing else matters to either Killian or Emma because Nova places the baby in their arms. She coughs a few more times, her whimpering replaced by full-fledged crying now. His arms around them both, with tiny Amy a warm reality next to her chest, and with Henry and her parents and extended family in the waiting room, Emma feels truly whole and complete.

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That same feeling of intense contentment flows through her as she watches Snow walk out of the dressing room holding Amy against her chest and Ethan’s hand in hers. David shifts uncomfortably now that it’s just him and his own baby girl, the one who he’s only gotten to watch grow more mature over these last six years, but who he’s expected to give away all over again. He takes her hands in his, noticing just how strong and capable they are while still appearing delicate, fragile. “Emma, your mother and I want you to know that even though we were separated and didn’t have a hand in raising you, we are so very proud of the woman you are today. And I, for one, am so incredibly grateful that despite the rocky beginnings and everything that’s happened, you never gave up on us. So, just know that if the pirate ever pulls anything stupid, our armory is always at your disposal.”

She can’t help but laugh and pull him in for a hug. “I understand a little better now what it means to be a parent who’s been placed in an impossible situation. Thanks for never giving up on me, Dad. Now. No more crying from either of us, and we’d better hurry. They can’t start without me, but I’d rather not give the pirate time to run.”

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Killian stands at the front of the small chapel with Henry—and for the life of him he has no idea why—but he’s actually nervous and fidgety. There’s nothing to be anxious about, except for the fact that hundreds of eyes are staring at him at the moment. He had every intention of making this day a reality, even before his Swan had beaten him to the proposal, but now that it’s here, he feels… Overwhelmed is the best word he can think of, rather like his first glimpse of the sea as a small boy; a feeling of insignificance and inadequacy. He looks over at the lad who gives him a small nod and a smile. He’d asked Henry to stand up with him after Emma had told him that she was going to ask her father to “walk her down the aisle”—a time-honored custom in this world, apparently.

The dwarf, who was knighted and ordained so that he could perform the ceremony, keeps nudging his arm every couple of minutes, informing him that it’s not too late to cry off and becoming surlier for every time that Killian refuses to leave. The truth is, an escape plan sounds like a capital idea at the moment; it’s collecting Emma along the way that would prove problematic, and he has a feeling that her mother would never forgive them for absconding from their own wedding ceremony. The townspeople certainly wouldn’t; he’s fairly certain it wasn’t in any contract he signed, but apparently being a member of the community and marrying their princess requires that everyone have the right to celebrate with them. Not that he minds Swan being forced to get dressed up, per se, but he would have preferred something much smaller, more intimate.

Someone near the back clears their throat, and moments later Snow appears in the doorway, pushing her son ahead of her. Ethan holds the pillow out at arm’s length and sticks his chin upward, marching toward his much older nephew and soon to be brother-in-law. He looks so somber and serious that it’s difficult for anyone in the chapel to not laugh just a little bit. Snow follows not too far behind with Amy snuggled in her arms; the sight of his daughter causes Killian’s chest to tighten as it always does and always will. He remembers every sonogram and check-up he went to with Emma; every time she would kick and roll around while he massaged, talked to, or sang to “their bean” as she had been initially christened. It’s not just that they almost lost her—although that fear is a part of the mix—it’s that she has been absolutely adored and cherished from the moment he knew she existed. And while it is (thank the gods!) many, many years in the future still, he knows that one day he will have to entrust his princess to someone else’s love and care, too.

His eyes are fixed on a now awake Amy, so it isn’t until everyone else has gotten to their feet that Killian looks up and practically falls to his knees when he sees her. Emma looks down at her feet, cheeks blushing furiously at all the attention directed her way, before getting the courage to ignore everyone else and find him. He isn’t smiling, but only because his mouth is hanging open in shocked awe. Her Dad squeezes her hand to catch her attention, and he nods approvingly at her fiancé. Emma laughs, both at David’s reaction and Killian’s; he now has an enormously proud smirk on his face that makes her blush even more. As her father walks her ever closer to the front of the chapel, Henry catches her eye and gives her a thumbs-up and a wink. The ceremony itself is pretty simple—not that either of them really notices anything beyond the other. The only time she’s seen him this happy is the day she asked him to marry her and told him that he was going to be a father. The thought makes her smile even wider, makes her own happiness that much richer.

Leroy barely manages to get out the pronouncement before Killian cups her cheek with his left hand, the one that now has his wedding ring on it, and pulls her in close. Emma’s breath hitches under the intensity of her own emotions and his piercing blue eyes. “I love you, lass. I don’t have words or thoughts enough for how grateful I am for all that you’ve given me, for all that we’ve built together. I was incomplete and hollow, but you have filled my life with blessings beyond measure. And to my dying day and after, I’ll make sure you never regret giving me your trust.” His silent vow brings tears to her eyes, because it’s a promise just between them; and when it comes to her, there’s not a promise he’s made that Killian Jones has ever broken. Every leap of faith she’s taken with him, he’s never let her fall.

She throws her arms around his neck and pulls his face down to hers, sealing their vows with a kiss that has the chapel erupting in wolf-calls and cheers of happiness. Everyone else thinks that they’re witnessing a happy ending. But for Emma and Killian, the true beauty of this day lies in knowing that this is only a beginning.


End file.
